Stop 5: The Changing of the Guard
1 sound
The soundscape of Parliament Hill reveals a lot about who has the power to shape public space and public memory in Canada, both past and present. The ceremonies and rituals that take place on the Hill actively determine whose stories are included in official national narratives. This raises important questions about representation: Whose musical traditions are featured in official ceremonies? Whose stories do they tell? How are sonic representations of national identity experienced by different communities across the country? During the summer months, the sound of the bagpipes float across the Parliamentary grounds around ten o’clock each morning, signalling the ceremonial Changing of the Guard, officially known as “Canada on the March.” This is part of a carefully curated soundscape that connects Canada to its British imperial roots. From June to September, the measured footsteps, ceremonial music, and military commands echo traditions that were established in Britain centuries ago. While these performances are a major tourist draw, they also invite us to consider deeper questions about national identity and colonial memory.
The first Changing of the Guard ceremony took place on Parliament Hill in 1959, during a postwar tourism boom and rising nationalist sentiment in Canada ahead of the centennial celebrations in 1967. The Ceremony itself is a centuries old practice dating back to the guarding of Britain’s royal palaces in the 1660s. The Canadian Ceremony is currently carried out by members of the Canadian Armed Forces military bands and reserve members. Although the bagpipes are Scotland’s national instrument, they have also become associated with British military traditions and colonial triumph. As such, they are a sonic signifier for Canadian military traditions as well, and part of a national soundscape. While these traditions are important in recognizing the service and sacrifices of those who served Canada, they also reinforce a narrative celebrates Canada’s colonial history while silencing histories of Indigenous genocide and racist exclusion. The sounds we hear – or don't hear – on Parliament Hill reflect complex historical processes that continue to shape contemporary Canadian society. They remind us that public spaces and soundscapes are never neutral. They are a reflection of political choices about how national identity and heritage are represented and made audible.
